Losing It for Lent

I grew up Catholic. Decades later, I would find a new home in a Baptist church: being among more people of color, particularly younger ones, moved me in a different way. I had the bells, the sermons, the dance ministry, Communion…and Lent.

I have been trying to stick the landing for Lent since grade school. Give up something. Make a sacrifice that could never begin to match that of Jesus’s. Make it big, or make it small, but make it. I know two friends offhand who are scary good at making these commitments. They think on it, find something they freakin’ love—chocolate, liquor, sex, the Internet—and boom, it’s done. Gone till that fateful Sunday. They struggle, it’s not easy—it shouldn’t be—but every year they name something they’re celebrating with post-Lent.

pizzaThey’ve learned not to ask me about my sacrifice, even if I’ve loudly proclaimed it to keep myself honest. This is so, so kind of them, because as with New Year’s resolutions, I usually clock in about 72 hours before I bail out HARD, feasting on whatever will get me through. One year I “gave up” ice cream… I could hear Häagen-Dazs laughing at me within two days. Another year I gave up chocolate… because I don’t like chocolate. I’m pretty ridiculous.

With this in mind, I decided to try a different approach this year. Although not a sacrifice per se, believe me when I say I’m depriving myself of something that I’m used to getting daily, possibly hourly. Something that deeply feeds me. How I wish it were chocolate… Alas…

For Lent, I’ll be silencing my inner critic. All the way—help me, Lord—through Easter. It’s just the Friday after Ash Wednesday but so far, so good. Good, but hard. Harder than ice cream. Harder than Facebook (no really), harder than DVR. Harder than sex by a mile (shut up!).

Now, I know we all have moments of doubt, or have sh*tty days, are maybe having a quarter-life crisis where we’re contemplating saying eff it & joining the Peace Corps. My critic? Is a BEAST. A monster, in the most unchill sense of the word. Like last week: spur of the moment, I experimented and decided for one full day I would “think positively” (which my inner critic noted with supreme sarcasm; what kinda hippie was I trying to be?).

The result was pretty gruesome. I woke up and thought it was too early to be up & I needed a few more hours. Not a snooze button: I needed hours. Damn, did I have to go out? The weather was a mess (if I’m honest, I can find cracks in the weather index at the height of spring). My shower takes too long to heat up. I hate the painting on my wall; it’s cheap and looks cheaper. Was I hungry? Why wasn’t I hungry? I can never find my shoes and this is somehow symptomatic of my life to date. And on. I better not slip on these stairs; everyone knows how klutzy I am. Ugh, this dude on the corner is a disaster. Is his life as awful as mine? Let me do a visual inventory to compare. Nope, he’s talking to a girlfriend; points off for me, single on Valentine’s.

Continue reading “Losing It for Lent”

Licking off the frosting…

So what’s up with this weird, sort of clichéd love triangle  in The Frosting? It came to me while I was freelancing, doing something completely unrelated. On the sneak I typed up the entire thing in about 20 minutes. Quick shout-out to the nuns at my Catholic high school who taught me to type on old-school typewriters that took every muscle in my fingers to push down a key; I type about 85 wpm and I owe it all to you (picture me with a tiara and flowers, blowing kisses at shocked, 70-year-old nuns in an audience).

Anyway, this was one of those “Write it now” moments that again, don’t happen often.

The place where Corinne and Eli live is a place I lived in for a year. It was an incredibly small studio with a refrigerator improbably jutting into the living space. This was not a place built for two people. I barely survived it. With creative license, I added a breakfast table and some sort of computer space where they would never have fit realistically.

Continue reading “Licking off the frosting…”

BSC is on a complete effin’ tangent…but there’s sugar at the end.

Hey guys. Whew. Let me get straight to it.

I was near-apoplectic last night trying to set up an Amazon link here. If anyone knows code, please give me a shout via e-mail. When the seventh Google search told me to “throw the code on your site anywhere” I started rubbing my whole face with my hands, which I only do when frustrated, because touching your face causes breakouts.

It’s only been two weeks but I’m peeping other blogs and it’s like, circus time! Look over here–take this awesome poll! Get your fortune told here! Call your buddy over here for free! Push this button and a woman WILL show up to give you a massage. Get a password and the admin will hum you to sleep for 30 minutes. I WANT TO DO THESE THINGS TOO. So what, these blogs have been up for three, four years. Who cares? My learning curve is mad high, you’re telling me I can’t embed a few buttons? Thank you, WordPress, for making me feel like I was born in the 40s (no disrespect, I’m sure it’s great being a baby boomer, whatevs) and cannot make use of a computer. Thank you, HTML, for making me think I did. not. learn. HTML, when I know I did. I just didn’t learn HTML code with blogs.

There’s an acronym they use in 12-step groups–don’t make decisions when you’re Hungry, Angry, Lonely or Tired. It’s simple, easy to remember and really, really true. Well, same goes for posting on the Web. I’m pretty sure I cursed out Mark Zuckerberg last night—merely because I chose to gripe about WordPress on Facebook. WTF, Chick? Also, I was hungry and had run out of healthy snacks.

All that to say, I have to remind myself that this is just a blog. It’s not my grad school essay. And though it reflects me and I want to wake up with brilliant non sequiturs ready to go in my head and have a thousand readers and continue getting encouraging feedback… That’s effin’ absurd. I’ll keep learning as I go, and hopefully that will include code. But it may not. And I’ll try to keep my cool, because lunatics don’t usually have successful blogs.